Juste Cette Fois
by SassC HiJinx
Summary: The ability to touch without repercussions - draining a life force, for example - was finally hers. This picks up after the Rogue/Gambit kiss in X-Men: Legacy #224. Consider it a missing scene of sorts.


Disclaimer: No money being made here as I do not own these characters.

This picks up after the Rogue/Gambit kiss in X-Men: Legacy #224. Consider it a missing scene(s) of sorts.

The title (roughly) translates to "just this once." Any French speakers set me straight if it's incorrect. Um, that goes for any French in the story as well. Thanks!

ETA: A big shout-out to Carogue who helped correct my French, namely the title. You're awesome!

Author's update 7/2/12: Did some light editing and fixed some spelling mistakes (So ashamed! Guess that's what I get for going betaless). The story, however, is still the same. Enjoy!

***x***

"It's sad when a _homme_ has t' break into his own house," Gambit huffed as he fiddled with his lock pick in the simple-looking dead bolt.

"Technically, it's mah house, swamp rat," Rogue clarified as she leaned on the door frame, watching him work.

Not looking up from his breaking and entering, he replied dryly, "Always gotta be right, dontcha?"

"Might be because Ah am." Watching Remy try to break in to her long-deserted beach house in Valle Soleada, California, Rogue felt like she was having an outer body experience. What they came back for shouldn't even be a possibility and yet...there they were - anxiously attempting to gain entrance to the bungalow that held so many memories of their happiness when they were depowered and on leave from their duties as X-Men.

This time, neither was lacking super powers but both were still somewhat estranged from the mutant hero team.

Less than 24 hours ago, Rogue was running haphazardly through a collection of frighteningly real simulations of some of her most defining and less-than-shining moments in her life – an experience that ultimately resulted in her gaining full use of her powers. The ability to touch without repercussions - draining a life force, for example - was finally hers. The reality of it was staggering but excitement and shock bubbled within her, leaving her giddy when she truly allowed herself time to examine it. Her powers were controllable and she could finally start living life on her terms. No more wearing long sleeves in the hot New York summers or gloves to shake hands. Those days of covering up for both her sanity and the safety of those around her were gone. The possibilities of living life without so many restrictions and precautions were seemingly endless, but first things first.

Their impromptu trip to their old West Coast residence left them both unprepared and wearing their uniforms. Keys to the house were on the other side of the country, in the X mansion on opposite coast, and neither wanted to waste time doubling back. The trip from the Australian Savage Land was grueling enough. Plus, she was in the presence of a master thief. One who uncharacteristically was having trouble with the simple task of breaking in to a house.

"How's it goin' there, champ?"

"Mock all y' want, Rogue. Put dis lock on fo' a reason."

"So no one can break in," she recited, the logic still ingrained in her memory when her then-beau had insisted on installing the damn thing. "Not even you, apparently." After a moment, she pushed away from the door frame, sighing impatiently. "Ah'm about ta break a window."

"Don' give up yet, _chère_. Gambit jus' gettin' started."

"Ya said that 10 minutes ago, sugah."

Pausing with the lock, he pinned her with a smoldering stare, he said, "Y' know we don' need de house t' do what we're gonna do."

Feeling the heat rise in her face, she rolled her eyes. Even after months of tension, frustration and finally estrangement, not to mention Remy's brief will to kill Rogue as Death, they were slipping into their old patterns with remarkable ease. It was almost as if the past few months never happened. Almost.

Grinning, he worked the lock a little more before it gave way. "_Voilà_! After y', _chère_."

"Hallelujah," she said under her breath. Giving him a last glance, she entered her beloved beach house and was almost immediately caught in the time warp. Memories came pouring back for both of them. Memories of when he was just a man and she was just a woman, and they were happy.

"Home sweet home," Remy whispered.

"Sure is," she replied, distracted, as she inspected the living room and noted how everything was as it was left...magazines and books strewn across the coffee table, jackets still hanging up in the coat closet, her favorite candle still setting on an end table. The room held a hint of mustiness from being vacant for so long, though the ocean air kept the house from being too stuffy. Her surveying gaze ended up on Remy who was standing next to her. Their eyes locked and the past was forgotten as their lips crashed into each other. The kiss was similar to one they shared earlier in Australia, tentative and sweet at first, then passionate and intense. But this one possessed an underlying neediness, desperation of two people who have been dragged apart for too long. The kiss wasn't just about lust so much as it was about two people finding their way back to each other.

Remy's hands worked their way into her loose waves, pulling her closer until her chest was intimately pinned against his. She grasped at his trench coat, his uniform, whatever she could find so long as it was attached to him. She felt his lips hot on her neck and let out a small moan as she found herself pinioned between the front door and Remy.

"'Lo, _chère_," he said as he found the zipper to her skintight uniform.

"Hi," she responded, her voice heavy and distracted with passion.

He peeled away her uniform, revealing her soft, yet firm, body of angles and curves. She felt his lips everywhere on her feverish body. It had been so long, too long, since they had been this close.

Kneeling, he helped her out of her uniform so that she was wearing only a bra and panties. Still up against the door, Rogue felt Remy's lips touch the intimate place between her legs. Little electric shocks shot through her body. His tongue was teasing her through the thin cotton and she ached to feel him skin to skin. So many barriers, always. This time, this night that her powers were no longer an obstacle, she wanted nothing - neither fabric nor past discretions and mistakes - to come between them.

"Rem-," she said shakily, her breathing coming heavier and heavier. "Ah need...please..." Though she couldn't articulate what she wanted, he seemed to know anyway. Grinning, he hooked his thumbs into the sides of the flimsy garment and pulled it down devastatingly slow, teasing and enticing her. Throwing them aside, he purred, "Dat better, _chère_?" He never gave her a chance to answer as he continued where he left off, running his tongue over her folds and suckling her gently. He gradually took her to climax as she writhed against the door and against Remy all at once, releasing a soft, satisfied moan.

He rose from his knees, bringing his warm hands to cup her face. Leaning his forehead against her feverish one, he whispered, "_Suivez-moi_, _ma belle _Rogue. _Ce soir est le notre_."

Picking her up so her legs wrapped around his waist, he carried Rogue to their old bedroom.

***x***

As she drifted back to consciousness, her first thought was that of a heavy arm strewn across her belly. His warm, masculine body, positioned quite comfortably on his stomach, was nestled closely next to hers. The experience of waking next to a man was not a pleasure she had been able to indulge in for so long, and strangely, it felt as if she had never left the cocoon of his arms. It would have been easy to relish the feeling of awakening in her lover's arms but instead of happiness, there was a sick weight settled in her chest as she realized all the reasons why she shouldn't be in her present position.

Sleeping with Remy was wonderful as usual but their frenzied and sensual coming together was ill planned. She had told Remy in the Savage Land that while she wanted him to stick around, she was apprehensive about possibly restarting a relationship with him. No matter what they did it always ended in disaster. Although all those other times she couldn't freely touch him, she mused. Surely being in true control of her power would help?

It wasn't as if she didn't love him, she did as she always would. Even before Remy's transformation into the fourth horsemen of the Apocalypse, their relationship at that point was tenuous at best and stagnant and hurtful at worst. She needed to get up and away for some time to think clearly. Gently lifting his arm up and away, she gingerly left their bed, afraid to move too much or even take a breath for fear of waking the ex-thief and notorious light sleeper. Luck was on her side as she stealthily slid from his embrace without so much of a murmur from him.

Casting a final glance at her sleeping companion, she went in search for clothes and found a pair of navy lounge pants and a matching tank still tucked away in drawers and put them on. She grabbed a lightweight hoodie to ward off the cool morning air.

Quietly opening the back door, she stepped onto the porch, letting ocean air envelop her and set her at ease. Though she loved growing up near the Mississippi River, there was something about the ocean that intrigued and calmed her. Sitting on the bottom step of the porch, she dug her bare feet into the sand and savored the feeling of the sand between toes. It struck her that she could now enjoy going bare foot whenever she felt the urge. No more worrying about accidently coming in contact with someone else and draining them. She smiled. She knew she would never tire of these small discoveries that reminded her she was free. Free to dress and act to her comfort and not worry about consequences. Free to be with whomever she wanted...

She always had trouble saying no to Remy. It was a character flaw on her part, a calculated move on his. And last night was no exception. Though, she hadn't regretted it, she felt shy about what they had done. In truth she had never slept with someone who wasn't her boyfriend before. And though that boyfriend had been Remy, he wasn't her boyfriend now, so it felt odd.

Regardless of her current feelings, she had been a very willing participant the night before. And this place, their home for far too short a time, did strange things to her. Made her feel overly optimistic. It was a place for normalcy, away from mutant heroes, ego-maniacal bad guys, psychotic geneticists and overbearing shape-shifting mothers.

She had forgotten how much she loved living in California.

But now...everything was different. She could touch. But that didn't change the fact that things between her and Remy were as complicated as ever. But last night was...different, beautiful, cleansing. Separate from all the negative ramifications of their forever tortured relationship. It felt like a fresh start. However he had managed it, he was back to being the charming, thieving Remy LeBeau and she now had full control - the only thing besides Remy she had ever really wanted.

Waking up naked next to a man was a sensation she hadn't felt in a while. And now she had the rest of her life to enjoy it. Not that she would be waking up daily to this particular man, she reminded herself. This was supposed to be a one-night engagement. They agreed upon the terms before they had even left Australia. It didn't have to be that way forever, but for now, they both decided not to force their fragile relationship. Last night she hadn't weighed the repercussions but in the judgmental light of day, she wondered if they should have rushed their coming together. There were so many things that needed to be said...

A familiar voice shattered her reverie.

"Dere y' are. Y' sure know how t' make a _homme_ feel lonely."

She turned around from her perch on the bottom step to see Remy standing at the back door in old sweats and T-shirt that had been left behind. In his hand was a steaming cup of coffee, an offering Rogue very gladly accepted.

"No promises as to de taste. Ain't exactly de freshest."

She took a tentative sip, grimacing slightly. "So this is what coffee tastes like when it's been sitting around for a few years."

"Only de best from Gambit, _hein_?" he said with a crooked grin, taking a seat beside her on the narrow step.

She rewarded his joke with a small smile and nodded, taking another sip, barely able to get the beyond bitter liquid down before passing it back to him. Wordlessly, he accepted, though he wisely refrained from drinking it. They sat there quietly, side by side, arms and legs touching, both watching the morning waves roll onto wet sand.

"Y' hungry? Wan' me t' make y' somet'ing?" he asked.

"Sure, sugah. We got stale food in there, too?" She answered with a tease and a charming smile.

Here, things could be easy. It was almost as if all the hurt of the past few years never happened. It was like they had never left.

"I'll go t' de store and buy somet'ing t' make. How does dat sound?" he asked smoothly.

"You're lookin' for an excuse ta show off is what Ah think."

"Y' never could turn down m' cookin'."

Hanging her head in mock defeat, she responded lightly but with an underlying seriousness. "Surely never could."

It was when they were exposed to outside elements that things started to fall apart.

"Y' feelin' okay 'bout last night?" he asked finally.

"Yeah," she replied softly. "Ah mean, Ah wouldn't wanna share this with anyone else. Even after..." she trailed off, leaving the sour memories of Remy's transformation into Death and the whole incident with Foxx and her mother's deception and attempted seduction of her boyfriend. Not to mention her own embarrassment in jumping to think the worst of him - always. "Just felt right."

He nodded in agreement.

Falling into another silent lull, she could tell Remy wanted to say more but hesitated. She decided she didn't want to talk about things after all. Sometimes it seemed that when they tried to sort their feelings out with words, things ended up even more mottled. It was supposed to be one night of happiness where they could forget about the past and just focus on each other in the moment.

"Rogue," he began.

Dreading the words that would follow, she shot up. "Ah'm gonna go inside. You better get going, too, if ya gonna make something."

"Hey," he said softly as he caught her hand gently, urging her around to face him. Rising, he was now eye to eye with Rogue as she stood a couple steps above him. Finally, they were on equal ground. "_Chère_, t'ink we need t' clear some t'ings up."

"Ya don't have to. Really, it's okay-"

"Rogue, I need you t' hear me on dis."

Uncertainty painted on her face, she agreed.

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Don' even know where t' begin. T'ings weren't great before-" He had trouble putting his transformation into Death into words. Verbalizing what he went through only reinforced that he lost control of a situation he had thought he could handle.

Rogue gave a mirthless laugh. "Let's face it, Remy. Things are never great when it involves us."

Bringing a hand to rest of her cheek, he scoffed, "Can't say dat, _chère_. We had some good moments. Last night counts as one, surely," he added with a subtle leer.

Rolling her eyes, she playfully pushed at him. "Glad ta see your ego came through intact and as swollen as ever."

"It's what y' like best about me, _chère_. Admit it."

"Like a hole in the head."

He fell quiet at her remark. Looking down, he spoke again, albeit quietly. "That's what it took t' come back."

"Remy?"

Reliving the moment when Sinister had skillfully, if not gleefully, transformed Gambit back to his former self. The procedure was similar to the one the overzealous geneticist performed to tame Remy's overwhelming charging power all those years ago. "Doesn't matter."

"What did ya let him do ta ya, sugah?" she asked sadly.

"Doesn't matter now dat he's dead. 'M free."

"Are ya?" she asked reflexively. "You looked into mah eyes and promised to kill me, and you meant it." She blinked away sudden tears, remembering the cold red eyes that promised to end her life and do it with pleasure. That was the moment she felt she really truly lost him. The realization had been enough to make her sick.

He remembered Death's attempted homicide of Rogue as well. His unnaturally black hand wrapped around her slim neck, squeezing off her air supply. Though his mind had screamed at him to stop, he had felt an overwhelming desire to see her suffer. Part of him relished seeing the fear and betrayal in her eyes. Death wanted her to suffer - that was clear - but he realized reluctantly Remy LeBeau the man may have felt a sense of vindication in her pain. He shamefully recalled the memory and wanted more than anything to push it away. As Death, Remy had been compelled to destroy everything that reminded him of his humanity - Rogue especially. As Remy LeBeau, he wanted more than anything to make amends. Helping Rogue work through her control was one way of doing that. He loved her more than anything and yet even he - the one who had pursued her so determinedly - was wary of returning to a relationship that held so much pain and regret. But that didn't mean they couldn't take steps towards healing.

"Sometimes when Ah close my eyes, it's all Ah see," she continued, her tears stubbornly refusing to stay at bay. "Your eyes were so cold and dead and filled with hate. For me. For us. That's hard to- But last night was-" Hot, salty tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she stammered her long-buried emotions, her confusion and her inability to reconcile that her former lover who had returned to her, was the same person who so viciously wanted to kill her.

"Not sure I ever hated m'self so much dan at dat moment, Rogue. And dere's a lot I've done in m' life I've punished m'self for."

Seeing Rogue so upset was like a dagger gutting him repeatedly. But to know that he had caused her suffering was what twisted the blade just a little deeper. Instinctively, he pulled her to him. Her sobs were muffled by his chest as he held her tight. He couldn't find the words to comfort. There were none, especially when he had wanted to kill Rogue as Death.

Just as much as she needed him at the moment, he needed her. He needed her to remind him that he wasn't a monster.

Pulling away, she looked up at him miserably, accent thickening. "Ah cain't blame ya though. Wasn't lahke Ah was the perfect girlfriend or anything. Gawd, Ah tell ya ta go sleep with other women and Ah get mad when Ah think you wanted to. Why didn't Ah just make ya jump through some damn real hoops instead? May have been less humiliatin'."

His hand wound itself in her hair, smoothing it away from her face in hopes of soothing her. "Rogue, stop it. We can't change de t'ings in de past. Can't beat ourselves with de should-haves and de never-weres. We jus' got t' live in de moment, yes? Isn't dat what y' told me not 24 hours ago in Australia?"

She nodded slowly, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

"Is this all we'll ever get, Remy?"

"What, _chère_? Stolen nights together, hopin' we c'n outrun de past jus' a little longer? Hope not. Eventually would like t' get off dat ride."

"It's all Ah want, too, Remy."

"Den what y' worried about, _chère_? We want de same t'ings."

"So that's it? We go back to the way things used ta be?" Rogue asked tentatively. As much as she wanted to be with Remy, she knew they could never go back to the tired relationship they had before.

Remy took a breath before he responded, needing a moment to craft the right words to tell her. His hands dropping down from her face to take her smaller ones into his, he finally responded. "Not necessarily. We take it day by day. No need t' rush not'ing. For one, we got time. Time t' decide what we wanna do if we wanna do anyt'ing. Ain't got not'ing dictatin' it - no' y' skin, no' y' mama nor de X-men. Jus' us, _chère_. We're all dat matters."

Looking up at the handsome face she had come to know so well over the years, she flashed him a genuine smile. "Sugah, Ah like the sound of that." She leaned into him, placing a hand on each side of his face, drawing him in for a kiss. Remy deepened their embrace, snaking a hand once again through her loose curls and resting his other hand on her waist, pulling her closer. As Rogue's hands started to roam beneath his T-shirt, Remy reluctantly broke away from her, his breathing uneven and his pupils wide with lust.

"Still hungry?" he asked raggedly, recalling their earlier talk of breakfast.

Rogue looked mildly confused by Remy's sudden shift of focus but recovered well. "Yes," she responded, a mischievous smile plastered on her face. "But not for food, darlin'. C'mon." Taking his hand, she led him back into the house. While they both knew they had a long way to go before old hurts and betrayals were completely healed, in Valle Soleada they could put the anguish aside and remember why a union that has caused so pain for both throughout the years was always worth fighting for.

***x***

A/N: I listened to Filter's "Where (do we go from here)" and The Pierces' "Three Wishes" on repeat while writing this. Just seemed to fit.

The part about Sinister doing some sort of brain surgery on Remy to change him back from Death is something I made up. I don't think Marvel ever explained how Remy came to be Remy again (which is kind of an important detail, right?), but I'd imagine that Sinister has the knowledge and technology to make just about anything happen. So, yeah...there ya go :)

Translations:

"_Voilà!_" = There!

"_Suivez-moi_, _ma belle_ Rogue. _Ce soir est le notre_." = "Come with me, my beautiful Rogue. This evening is ours."


End file.
